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IC [Mage the Awakening] After the 2003 Hoax

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  • #16
    (Right so this forums completely wiped out my previous post)

    Scar reached into his jacket with the intent of answering Doolittles question when he felt the ping of supernatural effects. Instead his hand found itself wrapping around his handgun as he watched the two new arrivals approach. His expression did not change, but his eyes clearly stayed on the new comers and his hand waited within the jacket. At last a waitress returned with his cafe and he withdrawed his hand to accept the cup and saucer, placing them softly upon the table.

    He allowed the new comers to interaction with the group, once more studying them as he waited for a break in the conversation. At last he reached into his jacket and pulled out a padded envelope, throwing it onto the table.

    "My dear young lady, how do I know you yourself do not work for a ministry, am I suppose to take you on your word alone? Instead I offer proof of mutual interest. My investors do not personally desire the Chess set of Fate, but instead seek a return of mutual assistance in obtaining something else. They are willing to provide financial and non financial assistance, and they expect this assistance returned. Its a simple enough contract."

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    • #17
      One half of Doolittle's mouth twists upwards in response to Scar's question. The game is on! She nods her head to him, acknowledging his challenge of her identity, his right to make it, and her implicit right to respond in kind.

      She pauses for a moment, mulling over her next move, and then performs a complex series of gestures that call to mind Buddhist statues and medieval icons of Christian saints. She raises an eyebrow, then her face falls in a studied mask that's equal parts mild disappointment and warm, reassuring acceptance. Her accent inexplicably strengthens.

      'Were you a Téarch, you would have recognised these gestures as being of our order - our little 'secret handshake' … but I see you must occupy another point of the Pentacle. No matter; I ought to be able to find some other way of verifying my identity.'

      She fishes in her bag, then holds out a mobile phone to the other mage - a glass-and-chrome Apple device that won't be on the open market for several years.

      'My immediate superior and mentor, Karolus Magnus, Deacon and Councillor of the Languedoc Consilium, will be able to verify my credentials to your satisfaction. Though -'

      One hand raised - a delicate gesture of hesitation and caution.

      'It is currently, I believe, half past six o'clock in Toulouse; he is an elderly man, entrenched in his good habits and good food, and is likely to be enjoying his entrée around this time. Perhaps calling him now would not be advisable, as he occasionally objects strenuously to what he, in his understandable ignorance of the current situation, would regard as an interruption to his deal.'

      The phone is half withdrawn - left within his reach, but on its way back into her purse.

      'But - I am so very sorry, and I am sure the fault lies entirely with me - I have not yet been convinced of the identity of your benefactors, or their alignment with the interests of Awakened society. That they are always 'investors' has an odd whiff of … Mammon, and the Chancellor, I would say? Acamôt and beings like them often make investments in those that serve them, and often also have a habit of demanding quid-pro-quo arrangements for their services. Services that, I would add, I am not interested in; I am here as an emissary, just like you, save that the Ladder acts with only the good of Awakened society in mind.'

      Her warding, calming, pacifying gesture solidifies, becoming a little more intent in staving off offence.

      'I do not mean to offend, though naturally my clumsy words may have inadvertently had such an impact; I do not really believe you are Seer or Scelestus. But you have not yet identified your munificent backers; come on, please do not be shy, or feel that you need to keep them concealed for modesty's sake. This is Mage politics; we are all friends here.'
      Last edited by Winnersh 3; 01-11-2014, 06:13 PM.

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      • #18
        The drama playing out in the cafe had not completely escaped notice. Rumors of Oberon's flashy entrance had reached the ears of a militant Gurdian of the Veil who called himself Silencer. Silencer had selected his shadow name to make clear to all his fellow will workers his utter commitment to preventing the wrong words from reaching the wrong ears. While his shadow name might have addressed only words, he was at least as opposed to sleepers seeing the wrong things as hearing them. Such total disregard for the Veil must be answered, and he would be.


        Silencer was seething. With a reported Bound being a hoax, a bullet had been dodged. Now the reprieve from exposure had been foolishly set at risk. Running a hand through his graying hair, he decided that he had to act. Regretably, his return to Little Rock would have to wait. After making sure that his special dagger was still safely tucked into his boot, he set out for the cafe. It was time to do what he did best.


        Before he reached the cafe, Silencer stopped. Something warned him that he would be entering a dangerous situation. That being the case, he decided to call his wife. When she answered, he simply said, "I just wanted to say that I loved you."

        After he finished talking to wife, Silencer called his girlfriend. While he had a great comment to his order's mission, he otherwise had no illusions about his character. This self-awareness scarely troubled him. The joy he gleaned from his time with his ravishing mistress was well worth the odd pang of guilt. He just hoped that he would live to see both her and his wife again.


        OOC: Thank you Winnersh 3 for the idea!
        Last edited by Cire; 01-11-2014, 07:18 PM. Reason: Double Post

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        • #19
          The claim his girlfriend has a link to one of the pieces raises on of his eyebrows. "What, really?" He looks at her. "You think it's held by your Keeper, or one of the Changelings in your Freehold or something?"

          She shrugs. "I can't remember my Keeper having any magic chesspieces, or any of the other changelings I've met claiming one, but Autumn and Winter are really secretive and a lot of my memories of Arcadia are really fuzzy until you showed up, so who knows. Maybe one of them has it, my Fetch has it, maybe one of my Sleeper blood relatives."

          And then, suddenly, a man walking by draws a knife and lunges, Oberon casually leaning back out of the way. Then, he snaps his fingers, whispering "Gravy Gun," under his breath, executing a Rote that he had suggested on the Free Council message boards some time ago. A spell that utilises the Practice of Fraying through the Space Arcanum, simply put, it's a warping of space-time, that seeks to twists asunder an opponent. Light twists and bends as the man's knife arm is twisted like matter approaching the event horizon of a black hole, before spacetime reverts to normal a moment later and he collapses to the ground, overwhelmed from the pain of having the bones of his limb shattered into dozens of pieces.

          Oberon steps onto his back, holding him on the floor with his foot. "Wow, I knew that the Seers would be protective of their chess pieces, but I didn't expect them to jump us before we even left the cafe."

          The man on the ground groans. "Not Seer. Guardian."

          He blinks. "What, really, bro? What, I used magic in public so you jumped me with a knife? That's how they do things where you're from? What city are you from, so I know not to go there?"

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          • #20
            Scar leaned back in his seat, a half smile crossed his face seemingly amused at the situation. Was he possibly enjoying this back and forth banter? His eyes glanced for a moment at the new arrival and his girlfriend and the grim expression returned. His fingers tapped lightly on the table and he appeared to be in a focused thought. At last his attention returned back to Doolittle, leaning forward in his chair.

            "I think perhaps, you hoped not to offend, but your words are far from clumsy. I believe, deliberate and calculated would be a more accurate portrayal. My investors are silent because they want to be, and I continue not to name them because I am obilgated, by contractual agreement no less, not to. However I have been completely honest about my intentions. Up front as you will. You however, oh trusty worthy Therach of the most noble Silver Ladder, have yet to truly explain your own. That is, unless you expect us to believe you do this as a true act of benevolence. This is Mage politics after all."

            He once again leaned back in his seat.

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            • #21
              As Scar spoke to Doolittle, Silencer snarls at Oberon, "I hail from Little Rock, you walking threat. I gladly tell you my town so that you might never go there. You are so careless, and consider not what you do."

              At this, Tuesday looked over to the Free Council member and said, "Oberon, I suggest you let this man go or take him somewhere private. We need no more attention than we have already gathered."

              "Do not dare speak of me as if I were not here!" snapped Silencer from the floor.

              Tuesday glared at the humbled Guardian of the Veil. "I promise you,sir, that I have favored you with more attention that you deserve."

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              • #22
                Oberon looks at Tuesday, and nods. "Good idea. Any of you guys know enough Life to fix his arm?" He then steps off of Silencer's back, and kneels down to help him stand. "I'll have you know that I do consider what I do. As a Libertine, it is my duty to fight against the Lie, and, as Paradox is a manifestation of the Lie, it is my duty to use Vulgar magic to fight against it, especially when Sleepers are present to witness it. Every time I use Vulgar magic without Paradox, it's a victory in the war against the Exarchs."

                His girlfriend smirks. "So, not carelessness, just a philosophical difference."

                He nods. "Pretty much, yeah."

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                • #23
                  On his feet, Silencer said, "I can heal myself. I certainly would not want to trouble any of your friends. As to our philosophical differences, what you say sounds good. However, ask yourself this: how many sleepers are you willing to see die to fight the Lie? People - even sleepers - belong in the kingdom of ends, not means. I plan to go outside to heal myself covertly. Feel free to follow, if you desire. Hey, where has my knife gone?"

                  Tuesday replied, "Fate would have it that slid under our table. I consider it a gift to me for disturbing me and my new friends."

                  Despite the pain, despite everything, Silencer glared at Tuesday. "No. That knife is mine, and always will be!"

                  Tuesday smiled at Silencer. "What are you going to do? Crawl under the table?"

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                  • #24
                    The door of the black Mercedes swung open and Willow slowly made her way in to the cafe, stopping briefly at the door to check her hair. Entering the premises she took a seat near the door, able to see the entire room while remaining relatively unobtrusive. She was used to being in the background, always watching and listening, it was where she enjoyed being the most. It was always too loud and busy as the center of attention. For a plain girl it was better to be hidden away, this was reflected in her standard of dress as well. Nothing too flashy, but not too plain either, like a business woman off to a meeting. Her long deep red hair in a tight bun against the back of her head.
                    Catching the wait staffs attention she ordered a flat white, plain, simple and to the point. Nothing too complex, but still pleasant.

                    Occasionally she would check her watch, Scar was supposed to be on a tight schedule, there's a limit to how long they could afford to be dallying with these Awakened.
                    Catching his eye, Willow narrowed hers slightly. What was taking him so long? Something didn't feel quite right. She couldn't put her finger on it though.
                    "I guess I'll be rescheduling that lunch date" she murmured quietly to herself.

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                    • #25
                      'Mais oui, it is benevolence, of a kind. Anything that helps the Awakened nation, that brings us closer to the dream of Hieraconis, is a most worthy project, that we would do our best to support, free of reciprocal oblig-'

                      She winces exquisitely as the jangling, atonal clash of vulgar magic takes place behind her. Her mouth opens, closes, for a second, and she raises a finger to Scar.

                      'Sorry - one moment.'

                      She raises her feet as something clatters under them, and then reality ... shifts, somewhat. Not a spell, more subtle, more worldly - her attainment. The object rebounds off a table leg, comes to rest by her feet, and she stoops to pick it up, casting another spell on it as she does.

                      Doolittle rises, very slowly, very carefully, her hands clearly visible. They're not empty. To the Sleepers in the café, she's holding her parasol and a ring of car keys - presumably the ones dropped by the man as he fell and sprained his arm. The Awakened see something a little different. In her right hand, she carries a wicked looking Mexican sacatripe, a long, curving gutting-knife etched with High Speech; in her left, a long, heavy tipped longsword, its flashing blade looking more like an arc of liquid mercury than hammered steel. She turns, slowly, making sure Oberon and the Guardian can both see the blade, the prim, demure little smile never leaving her face.

                      'Messieurs, please. Let us not gut one another in front of the Sleepers.'

                      She steps daintily over to the injured Mage, and hands him his 'keys'. One of the advantages of Fate magic is that you never trip over your own skirts, hook an ankle round a chair leg, or stumble when extricating yourself from your seat. Everything you do is perfect.

                      Once the mage has his knife back, she helps to dust him off, then stands next to him - taking his side, as it were. She glares at the gathered mages, especially Oberon, but gives him a near-imperceptible wink, and ​concentrates at him. An apprentice of mind is hardly very skilled or subtle at telepathy, and so her message comes in in the form of a near deafening string of monosyllables.

                      - PLAY - ALONG - CAN - COVER -THIS - UP - FOR - YOU -

                      'Ahem. Let us just talk this out, shall we? There are frayed tempers all round, and I hope that no-one will act in such a way that they will come to regret it later.'

                      She turns to the waiter, who's hovering nervously in the background, carrying Scar's coffee and a tray of pastries, unsure what all the sudden commotion and fuss is about. Doolittle takes the refreshments warmly, places them on the table, and gently encourages her to leave them alone for a while. When she returns, she's adopted her 'speaking to Consilium voice'.
                      'Oberon: that rote you just employed was vulgar, and represents the second time you have cast such a working in as many minutes. It is technically a breach of the Lex, and by acting in such a way, you endangered not only the Veil, which our friend here is sworn to protect, but also yourself, and the other Awakened and Sleepers in this room. That you acted and did not invoke Paradox was not a victory over the Lie; that was lucky. I can already feel the weight of the Abyss on this room, and we will end up with an intruder if we are not careful with how we work. Plus, you did break his arm.'

                      'Guardian of Little Rock - while your dedication to your duty and Order is admirable, this is not your territory. Giving no fair warning, without declaring Right of Nemesis or invoking your duty, you drew a lethal weapon against this man, a weapon that could only have been useful to inflict serious and potentially lethal harm on his person. A knife is a poor tool for apprehending or incapacitating a foe, and if he had not been wearing his armour, then he would be seriously wounded now. This is not just a matter of unsanctioned inter-Order violence - which could end up with every Libertine in the state declaring the right of Nemesis on your pale ass - but is also a violation of the law of the United States. An investigation by state troopers would not be good for the veil, now, would it?'

                      She sighs, theatrically, and puts a comforting arm on the Guardian's shoulder.

                      'Look. What he did was stupid, and when he appeared behind me like that, I was in half a mind to run him through purely on the grounds that he might be the vanguard of a Seer assault squad. But I am glad that I did not. Both parties involved have erred, but the Sleepers here do not seem particularly aware about what happened, and no Paradox was caused. None of us is a member of the Houston Consilium, and if we start dragging them in, we will all be stuck here for months while the higher-ups debate jurisdiction.

                      I propose a simpler, safer, more covert solution, that will allow one of you to determine who was in the right, who was the unjust attacker, and to leave with your honour - and your person - intact. I would suggest that the two of you enter into the Duel Arcane, and let each of you get your chance of satisfaction there. I humbly request the honour of being your second; Tuesday, will you second Oberon?'
                      Last edited by Winnersh 3; 01-12-2014, 10:12 AM.

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                      • #26
                        Tuesday said, "If Oberon would have me, I would be most honored to serve as his second." If Tuesday felt any anger at Doolittle for returning the dagger, none of it was betrayed in her voice.

                        For his part, Silncer said, "My dear lady, I think a Duel Arcane is just the thing, and I would be beyond honored to have you as my second. Perhaps we should meet later tonight in my hotel room to discuss the exact details?" It was not hard to discern that Silencer had designs on Doolittle beyond merely discussing the proposed duel. He obviously desired her.

                        OoC: Welcome Ashreyel! Your characters seems really good, but please make sure you work out any connection between her and Scar with MysticJackal. Thank you in advance.

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                        • #27
                          Silencer's eyes leave those of Oberon, and begin roaming all over her. She grimaces internally, but keeps the look off her face. Pig.

                          'Monsieur, I do not even know your name - you take things a little fast!'

                          An idea strikes her, and she bounces on her feet a little, filled with a perfect simulacrum of enthusiasm and energy.

                          'As it happens, my schedule this evening is not so full this evening; perhaps, if you win the Duel,' - twinkly smile, as she removes his hand, which seems to be thinking about following the trail blazed by his eyes - 'then I might let you treat me to dinner - and we can discuss matters further after that. After you have fixed up your arm, of course. Make the formal challenge, Little Rock, and I will set it up.'

                          When the gauntlet's thrown down, she flounces over to Tuesday and the mages she has gathered together. Stopping for a moment by Oberon's girlfriend, she stands on tip-toes and whispers furiously in her ear, the smirk on her face looking for all the world as if she's about to smack the other woman down. Girlfight! Her whisper, though, is more urgent than angry.

                          'Tell your partner that he owes me one; and that he had better win the duel. I do not want to have dinner with a Guardian of the Veil, let alone anything more.'

                          Doolittle tosses her hair - she has a lot of hair to toss - dismissively, and saunters over to Tuesday.

                          'Madame Tuesday - I believe I know a disciple of Prime who will be able to square the circle for us. Would you - or you Scar, or you, Winchester - know where to get some Tass for our circle-squaring? Three doses would be sufficient renumeration, going by the Ladder's most recent standards - we will also need somewhere secluded, unobserved, to carry out the duel. Now - if you excuse me, and my incomparable busy-body-ness - I have an Obrimos to call.'

                          Outside, she gags a little - what she'll countenance doing for Awakened diplomacy - and punches in the number of someone she can rely on.

                          'Ammavaru?'
                          ...
                          'Oui, c'est moi!'
                          ​...
                          'Oui, je vais parler français, mon petit Daksha! Ou es-tu?'
                          ​...
                          'L'aéroport? Ton avion a été retardé? Ah, quelle dommage!'
                          ​...
                          'Non, je n'ai rien à voir avec ton avion. Eh bien, peut-être un peut avec ton avion. D'ailleurs, peux-tu m'assister? J'ai besoin de quelq'un très habile en Prime ... et je pensais c'est tu! On doit organiser un Duel des Mystères - un Voileur et un Libertin étaient sur ​​le point de se battre, tu connais la situation. Il semble qu'il pense qu'il va se coucher avec moi ce soir s'il gagne ...'
                          ​...
                          '... oui, je sais. Blaaargh. Nous pouvons tu payer en Tass - trois doses serait suffisant? Ils pensent que c'est 'le tarif habituel', hihihi.'
                          ​...
                          'Super! A bientôt - je vais t'envoyer un texto avec l'addresse.'

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                          • #28
                            Scar watched silently as the events unfolded further. He leaned back into his seat now, relaxing a little bit more. He picked up the cup of coffee and swirled it slightly just beneath his mouth, savoring the aroma. He had intended to intervene with the mess at hand, but it seems matters had conculded themselves for him, at least partially. As his eyes turned away from the group and instead to the other customers he noted the strange looks, finger pointing and quiet whispers happening in there direction. Regardless of what the sleepers thought they'd seen, they'd seen something. He sighed with annoyance and placed his cup back on the table.

                            "Three tass?," He seemed to roll the thought visually across his ususally expressionless face, "Yes that sounds fair. I think our esteemed libertine should be fine with picking up this tab, it's his mess after all. Of course I'd be happy to assist, for a small fee, I could have a contract drawn up and emailed through if you'd like. Assuming you can afford it, that is."

                            As Doolittle left he glanced at his platinum watch and frowned at the time. He needed to go, but first, there was one last mess to clean up. He reached into his pocket pulling out his cellphone. Hit speed dail, paused, then spoke.

                            "We got a problem. You felt it? Good. Execute Protocol 68 and make it snappy." Without waiting for a response he disconnected the call, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

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                            • #29
                              For her part, Tuesday thoughtfully watched Doolittle go. She would be hard to lead, and even harder to fool. Even so, she felt sure she would need her to accomplish her goals. She started to wonder if it might not be best to share with Doolittle some of the information that she had intended to keep secret. Setting the matter aside, Tuesday said to Oberon, "When we have a chance, there is much that we should discuss in private."
                              Last edited by Cire; 01-12-2014, 09:42 PM. Reason: Typoes

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                              • #30
                                Sighing inwardly, Willow hung up her phone with a snap and stepped out of the cafe, to the Mercedes. Opening the boot with a push of a button she retrieved a few objects before slamming it closed with a thud. Turning and checking her hair again she walked back in to the cafe, and over to stand beside Scar.
                                "Alright everyone that was a great job, a few ad libs I noticed, but all in all not bad at all. We'll get this over to the editing team and should have a working trailer by the end of the month. I know we hadn't rehearsed the included special effects, but we wanted genuine reactions to them. It went brilliantly."

                                Handing Scar a handful of cards, Willow began walking around the Cafe, handing a business card to the other patrons and wait staff. [All Worlds Production and special effects] with a free call number and email.
                                Finishing the rounds, she returned to the table full of Awakened. "Hopefully that keeps the sleepers sleeping, so which one of you should I have the bill sent to? Scar, we really do need to get going soon if you are to make your meeting on time."

                                OoC:Jackal and I live together, we should be able to take care of details between our characters/

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